Dreams of Dragons, Dreams of Stone
by Lady of Sandwiches
Summary: It is a little known fact, but Arthur has strange dreams too. *SEE PROFILE FOR MORE INFO*


It is a little-known fact, but Arthur has strange dreams, too.

They're not frequent, not like Morgana's, and they've never been a chronic problem. When he was younger, before being saddled with all kinds of responsibility, he used to sleep like a baby, swaddled in the soft sheets of his big bed and the love of his father. Which is not to say that he has never had a sleepless night; indeed, Arthur has lost a lot of sleep over the recent years, his mind refusing to rest as it turns over those big, difficult questions: _Do the people like me? Will I be a good king? _And so on. But that is normal for a Crown Prince. And he certainly has had ordinary dreams before. Sometimes, he'll dream of warfare and glinting swords, or he'll dream of a peaceful life with Gwen. Sometimes, he'll dream of the mother he can't quite remember, and when he wakes up, his face will be oddly wet. Those are all typical dreams, and can be ignored with no great effort._  
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It's the strange dreams that keep him thinking into the small hours of the morning, that distract him during training, that resurface when he is alone.

They're not bad dreams. While he can't say he's never had a nightmare (he has a particularly nasty recurring nightmare about the death of his father - before, he was killed by an unknown sorcerer, now, he is killed by his sister) he doesn't wake in a cold sweat every night, panting as if he had just fought off the most terrible of monsters. He would see Morgana every day, face pale and eyes shadowed, just a little bit more weary and worn down than the day before, and at first, he pitied her; now, he thinks he understands her a little bit better. Strange dreams are a peculiar burden to bear. While others are forgotten, these burrow deep into the corners of his mind and heart, sink down into his bones and soul and _stay there.  
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They're not bad dreams, he has to remind himself. But just because they're not bad, doesn't mean they aren't unsettling.

Arthur does not dream in variations. It's always a similar scene - he is on his father's throne, which scares him to bits, and he is holding court. He can't make out any of the faces before him. The crown is heavy on his head, but his back is straight and his shoulders are upright. The sun is high and the room is full of light. _My people are happy_, he thinks to himself. He doesn't know why he knows that, only that he does. He knows, somehow, that he is a good king, and that he is well-loved and admired. That doesn't quite reassure him as much as he would like. He looks to his left, and there is Gwen, beautiful and shining. She is his queen. (He likes that very much.) She looks at him and smiles, and he can honestly say he loves her more than anyone else. Then she looks to his right, and her smile fades ever so slightly. He turns his head around, expecting to see…

Well, he's not entirely sure what he expects to see. Sir Leon, perhaps. Maybe Lancelot. He expects someone that he trusts. But he doesn't see anyone at first.

Instead, he sees his shadow, long and black, stretching out beyond the dais and into the single gloomy corner of the room. There is someone there, standing in the dark. It is a completely impenetrable darkness; Arthur can't make out any distinguishing features at all. In the waking world, he would find this highly suspicious. Now, he can't sense any sort of threatening intent from the figure. Actually, he feels oddly safe.

All of a sudden, the sky darkens. The people start to scream and run, Gwen grasps his hand, Arthur stands and tries to calm everyone down, he looks to his right - he sees a hand reach out of the shadows, feels the hair on the back of his neck rise, smells lightning and thunder - a pair of eyes open and stare out at him from the black - _gold _eyes - and a hissing, rolling, _ancient_ language snakes its way into Arthur's ears -

There is a flash of light - Arthur can see dark hair -

And then, he wakes up.

He doesn't catapult himself upright, breathing hard; there is no jolt and feeling of falling. He simply opens his eyes and sees the canopy above him.

It irks him to no end, to be quite honest.

Arthur has never put much stock in dreams. He believes in ambition, and goals, but dreams have always been so ethereal, so flimsy and fleeting, that he has always dismissed them. He used to think that they weren't important, weren't real. But then Morgana tried to take over Camelot. He has been rethinking his stance on dreams ever since. He's going to pay attention to his dreams from now on, because, maybe, had he paid attention to them before, he could have seen this coming, and maybe even stopped his sister. If he pays attention to his dreams now, maybe he can prevent an even bigger tragedy from befalling his home.

(If he would ever think about it, he would realize that these dreams started around the same time he acquired Merlin for a manservant. Of course, the connection would never even occur to him.)


End file.
